Strange New Friend
by drummingnoiseinsidemyhead
Summary: (Series of One-shots) "You are basically the little sister I never wanted, Hope Green." Enjolras said, looking at her with amusement. After hearing this, the red-haired girl shook her head "Oh, revolution and hope. What a pair we make!" She commented cheerfully, and added: "Our parents must be proud."
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: ****Oh, hello! Thanks for choosing this fanfic to read :)**

**This is my first attempt ever to write a Les Misérables fanfiction, so I hope this isn't bad. Please be patient with me? And Feedback would be really appreciated. Anyway. This is a series of random one-shots about my OC, Hope Green, and her friendship with Enjolras. No romance between them, though. I also take requests and ideas, so please, feel welcome to make suggestions on the reviews. Also, this is mostly based on the book. There are elements of the musical as well, but not so many.**

**Since this is the first one-shot, I decided to keep it simple. Not too long. It's basically about how Enjolras met Hope for the first time. The other one-shots may not be in chronological order, so in the beginning of each chapter, I'm putting the date in which the events take place. And as for the updates, I will try to upload a one-shot everyday. I have tons of them written by now, so my only job is to edit them and post them here.**

**Okay, this is all. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Please, review and let me know what you think. Like I said before, feedback would be really appreciated!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Les Misérables.**

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**#1: The one with the strange girl who refuses to tell her name  
****[March, 1828]**

The first time Enjolras met her, he was left standing on the street, extremely confused.

He had just left his university building and was now walking back to his apartment. With his face buried in one of his law books, he was completely unaware of what was going on around him. Taking a deep breath, he let his mind wander for a while. The day ahead of him was going to be long: He had essays to finish, speeches to write, and a meeting to attend. And on top of it all, in a few hours - give or take - the rain would start to fall and he would have to deal with Joly being concerned about getting a cold - again.

Not paying attention to his path, the young revolutionary did not saw someone walking in his direction until it was too late. Two bodies collided, which ended up causing a bit of a mess. Loosing his balance, Enjolras took a few steps back, managing to keep himself up. Shaking his head, he looked around. His book was now spread across the ground, in a mix of six or seven other books.

"Oi! Watch your way, will you?" A voice snapped at him. He looked up only to see a girl standing there.

"Pardon me, Mademoiselle." He apologized, nodding his head. Without giving him an answer, she bent down and started to pick up the books. Enjolras, who now seemed to remember that helping the girl was probably the polite thing to do, quickly did the same. "Were you carrying these all by yourself?" He questioned her, after they were done.

"I think I can handle a few books, thank you very much." She replied, raising an eyebrow at him. She got up from the ground and turned to look around, letting out a sigh of relief when she found a medium-sized basket lying just a few meters away from her. She placed her books inside it, before picking it up from the ground.

He sighed, looking down at the three books he was holding. None of them which belonged to him. "I think those are yours." He commented, handing them to her. "I don't suppose there's a copy of the French Law Code in there?"

The girl placed the books on her basket, before taking out one of them. "Here you go, monsieur." She announced, handing it to him.

"Thank you." He nodded politely, gladly accepting his book back. "May I ask your name, mademoiselle?"

"No. You may not." She replied, looking at him with an expression of amusement. "There are no need for introductions between us, monsieur. Paris is a big city and it's highly unlikely that we will meet again. I'm just another face in the crowd for you, just as you are another face in the crowd for me. And besides, I'm in a hurry. There's no time to talk. Have a nice day." Having said that, the strange girl was on her way again, pacing fast through the streets of Paris without even bothering to look back at him.

Enjolras blinked his eyes in confusion as he watched her go. _"What a strange girl."_ He thought, shaking his head, before finally turning around to walk again.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: So, one shot number two. It's longer than the last one. I was planning on posting this one later, but I really wanted to explore her personality more, so... yeah. I'm sorry for any spelling mistakes. Also, a huge thanks for who favorited and followed this story. It means a lot to me. And, well, I hope that you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoy writing it. And... let me know what you think, please?**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Les Misérables.**

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**#2 - The One With The Strange Lad  
****[April, 1828]**

Her favorite day of the week had always been Friday but not because that meant she wouldn't have to work on the next day. There was, in fact, a rather large amount of reasons she appreciated Fridays more than the other days of the week.

On Fridays, her mother used to bake her favorite meals and her father used to read for her a bed-time story. On Fridays, she got to spent the afternoon with her mother on the gardens. On Fridays, her father would play with her different sorts of games. But that was ten years ago, when she still lived in Scotland and there was still a reason for her to be excited about life.

Hope Green was now sixteen years old and she was living in Paris with her uncle and aunt. She had no friends and received no special education - everything she knew, she learned from books and out of curiosity. She worked on her uncle's bookshop during the weekdays and helped around the house on weekends. She avoided unnecessary social interactions with strangers and spent most of her free time locked up inside her room, watching the world through the window and dreaming of a happier future, a future where she would be able to escape from her life.

However, Hope Green was not a damsel in distress. Unlike the most girls of her age, she didn't believe in love and she couldn't care less about husbands or fancy dinners. Hope wanted to see the world. She wanted to go on adventures, to save people. She wanted to fight the villains with swords, guns and arrows. She wanted to be the hero of the story, of her story. But she knew that it was impossible. It was foolish of her to still have such a strong hold on her childhood dreams.

That's why Fridays were still her favorite day of the week.

Because on Fridays, while she watched from the windows of the bookshop the people of Paris trying to survive on little and working hard all day, she was reminded of how lucky she was to have a job she loved and an uncle and aunt to support her. On Fridays, she was reminded to keep her feet on the ground and her head out of the clouds. On Fridays, she received the dose of reality she needed. On Fridays, there were-

"Excuse me, mademoiselle." A voice echoed through the room. "How much for this book?"

Hope blinked her eyes a few times, and turned away from the window. She had been lost in her own thoughts once again, and forgot about the bourgeois boy who had entered the bookshop just a few minutes ago. She pulled a strand of red hair behind her ear and cleared her throat. "May I have a look?"

She was not surprised to see it was a law-book. The bourgeois boy was probably a student in the university, she realized, taking a quick glance at him.

The book price, of course, would be of eight francs. But for some reason, her uncle had a policy on the shop of giving a discount of two francs for students, and three francs for children. When asked about it, her uncle would laugh and say: "We all deserve a chance to learn, though not all of us have money", but deep down, there was something else in there. She didn't understand his reasons, but she never said anything. He had a big heart, her uncle, and for that she was grateful.

"Six francs." Hope announced, not bothering to explain the discount policy. The bourgeois boy quickly gave her the money, and put the book away on his bag. The red-haired girl sighed, faking a smile. "Thanks for stopping by our shop, monsieur. Have a nice day!"

Instead of leaving the shop, the boy stood there for a few seconds. "Have we met before, mademoiselle?"

"Unlikely." She replied.

"I'm sure I've seen you somewhere before." He insisted, with a frown.

"Paris is a big city, monsieur."

Something seemed to click on the bourgeois boys mind, as he looked at her, wide-eyed. "Of course! How could I forget? You are the strange girl I bumped into last month. You refused to tell me your name."

'Just my luck' Hope thought, with a sigh. 'Some boy I barely remember to meet just claims to know me and the chances of him murdering me are pretty high.'

"You take care of this bookshop all by yourself?" He questioned her, with a frown. "How old are you, mademoiselle?"

"I don't mean to be rude, but I don't see how is that any of your business." She snapped, folding her arms.

"Right. Forgive me, mademoiselle." The boy apologized, nodding his head. "My name is Enjolras."

"All right, then." She nodded, raising an eyebrow. "Have a nice day." Hope moved towards the counter. She could feel her patience getting smaller and smaller by the moment, as the boy followed her. Taking a deep breath, she turned to him once again. "Can I help?"

"Won't you say your name, mademoiselle?" He inquired, raising an eyebrow at her. "It would be the polite thing to do."

"Hope Green." She told him. "And by the way, I'm not shaking hands with you."

"Of course you won't." Enjolras hissed, rolling his eyes. "It was nice to meet you, Mademoiselle Green. Maybe we'll see each other again soon."

Hope watched with amusement as he nodded at her and left the bookshop. She was almost sure that he felt offended by her lack of interest in maintaining a conversation, but she also couldn't bring herself to care. However, that does not meant she didn't feel curious. "Strange lad, that one." She commented, raising an eyebrow. And looking at the pile of books set on top of the counter, waiting to be arranged on the shelves, she sighed.

Because that was Hope Green's life.

On Fridays, she stayed at the bookshop staring through the window and putting off her work as much as she could, while of course, trying to avoid social situations.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Oh, hello! Third One-Shot, this one set in 1831. (As I said before, they are not in chronological order). I changed the summary, since it looked at bit lame to me. And..Uh, I don't think I have anything to say. Well. Is anyone actually reading this? Because if you are, I would love if you dropped a review about what you think - anything is welcome. And if you have any request of situations for the one-shots, I take them all. And... I guess there's nothing left to say. Uh, thanks for reading, and... please, review?**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Les Misérables.**

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**#3 - Jealousy and Silly Fights**

**[November, 1830]**

"What does she sees in him?"

Enjolras looked up from his book in confusion, only to find his best friend glaring at Marius from the corner of her eyes. He looked at Marius as well and was certainly not surprised to see that Eponine was standing next to him, trying to engage in a conversation and having little success.

If only looks could kill, Enjolras thought to himself, we would be having a funeral for poor Marius.

"They are just talking, Hope." He told her. "There is no reason at all to be jealous."

"Jealous?" The red-haired girl scoffed. "I'm not jealous. I just can't understand what an amazing girl like Eponine sees in a guy like Marius."

Enjolras opened his mouth to reply, but figured it would not be worth the waste of his words. There was no use on trying to convince Hope to forget about that ridiculous crush on Eponine she had. He would know, seeing that he tried to talk her into her senses several times before.

"What the hell does she sees in him?" She asked once more. "Just look at him. He can't talk with anyone without stuttering and he is the most clumsy person in the world. He blushes for almost no reason at all and his face is full of ridiculous freckles."

"So basically, he is a male version of you." Enjolras pointed out. "You two have more in common than you want to admit. Forgive the pun, but I do hope you haven't forgotten about that time you tripped in that pile of books and ended up taking down two or more shelves with you. That makes you clumsy. You tend to blush when people compliment you. And, well, you also have freckles. If only your hair was brown, you two could be mistaken by siblings."

"Shut up. I am nothing like Marius." Hope glared at him. "Ugh. I hate him."

"No, you don't." The young revolutionary said, rolling his eyes. "You may be angry at him because he is the object of Eponine's affection, but you don't hate him. You can't hate anyone, Hope."

"It's so unfair." She cried. "He doesn't even look at her twice and she's all over him. And I've been there for her for so long and-"

Enjolras stopped listening. He turned his attention back to the book in his hands, not bothering to look at Hope. He knew exactly what she was saying without the need of paying attention - only for the fact that he heard her repeat the exact same words a million times before. Part of him felt sorry for Hope. She was, after all, in love with someone who would never love her back. But at the same time, he was growing annoyed and slightly tired of hearing the same non-senses about Eponine every single day.

It wasn't until he had the book abruptly taken away from his hands that the young man realized that she had stopped talking. Even worse - she had asked him something.

"Were you even listening to me?" Hope asked, putting the book she took from his hands on top of the table.

"Honestly, no, I wasn't."

The red-haired girl rolled her eyes. "Such a good friend you are."

"Come, Hope. Don't be like that."

"I was pouring the very intimate contacts of my heart for the person I judged to be my best friend, only to find out he wasn't even paying attention." She hissed. "I'm sorry that I was being such a bother."

"I forgive you." Enjolras scoffed. "I have listened to your non-sense over and over for the past few days. I'm sorry, but I really don't care about your love life."

"You act so high and mighty, but you know what? I don't have to listen to you repeating the same revolutionary crap about France every single day, but I do." Hope snapped, crossing her arms. "I don't care about that. I'm Scottish, for God's sake. What difference does it make for me if there's a king or a president?"

"I can't believe you just said that." Enjolras muttered, slightly offended. "If you don't care, then why don't you just go sit with Grantaire and drink your sorrows off with him?"

"Maybe I will. At least he would pay attention to what I say." She replied, before getting up from her seat. "And I bet wine tastes really good."

"Wait." Enjolras got up as well, placing a hand on her shoulders before she had a chance to walk away. "You are not really going to drink with him, are you?"

"I don't see how that's any of your business." She hissed. "But no. I'm going home. You know, the place where someone actually cares about what I think?"

"Hope, stop."

"No! You made your point. I'm not going to bother you with my non-senses anymore. In fact, I don't think I'm going to bother you with my presence either."

"All right." Enjolras crossed his arms. "See if I care."

"I don't expect you to care."

"You are being stubborn and incredibly childish, Hope."

"No. I'm being a woman who feels highly offended and upset over something, but can't talk about it to her best friend because he is too busy being an annoying prat."

"I'm not-I'm not even going to try to talk to you."

"Fine."

"Fine."

"FINE!" She yelled, before storming off.

Enjolras sighed, feeling impatient and annoyed. Some of his friends were now shooting him curious glances and looks of disbelief and disapproval - this last one coming from both Comberferre and Courfeyrac. He knew he had made a mistake with Hope. It took him so long to have the red-haired girl to trust him, and now he had ruined it by saying that he did not care that she was in love with another woman - which pretty much made him a bad friend.

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Of course, Hope carried the same amount of guilty as Enjolras. She knew that he easily got bored with personal life details, and from the many times he tried to talk to her about Eponine not being good for her, she should have known better than just talk about her admiration for the gamine girl to him. And she knew she had overreacted a lot. But still, Hope had too much proud to apologize.

She realized that as she walked furiously through the streets of Paris, with her arms wrapped around her body in order to protect her from the cold. It was already dark outside, which caused her to curse mentally for not asking one of the other boys to walk her home. She had an irrational fear of dark streets and alleys, and she knew how dangerous the streets could be.

She heard footsteps behind her and flinched. She hurried her pace, not daring to look behind. She tried to not thinking about it at first. Maybe the person behind was not following her. Maybe it was just someone trying to get home, like she was. She knew it would do her no good to stay nervous.

But she couldn't help herself, as the footsteps got closer and closer. Biting her lower lip, the red-haired girl prayed for each and every god there was, begging for them to allow her to get home safe. She felt a hand grasping her shoulders and it was enough for her to freak out.

"TAKE YOUR HANDS OFF ME, YOU BLOODY TWAT!" She yelled, before turning around and throwing a punch in the unknown person. "I'll let you know that my uncle taught me how to fight and that if you lay another finger in me, I will not hesitate in-"

"Your uncle didn't taught you how to punch someone. I did." Enjolras muttered, looking at her while he pressed his hands against his face. "And very well, to be fair. This really hurt."

"Good. You deserve it." Hope replied, crossing her arms. "Why did you came after me?"

"You are afraid of walking alone during the night." He simply replied, with a shrug. "So I came to walk you home, as I always do."

"I don't want you to walk me home. I'm perfectly fine by myself, thank you."

"Yes, I can see that." He scoffed, rolling his eyes. "But just because you are being stubborn, doesn't mean that I will leave you alone. Besides, I'm one person. What if a gang attacks you in search of money?"

Hope shivered with the thought and quietly nodded. "All right. But I'm not talking to you."

"Of course you're not." Enjolras smiled at his best friend, rolling his eyes. "Honestly, I didn't knew you were so strong."

"Seriously? I carry piles and piles of heavy books around the bookshop all day. I think punching someone is rather easy compared to that."

"Hope Green, the most dangerous lady of the bookshop." He mused, reaching out with his hand to mess with her red bright hair.

"And her loyal assistant, Enjolras, the most boring revolutionary of Paris."

They didn't apologize to each other, but since that day, both listened with attention when the other was talking. And as they made their way towards Hope's house, the most unusual pair to ever exist put the fight aside and shared a good laugh.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Chapter four and another one-shot. It's short, but it's my way of wishing good luck for those of you who are in finals week or have them coming up! So, in this chapter there is a little mention of interaction between Hope and Eponine. I have it already written, but since this one-shorts are mostly based in Enjolras and Hope friendship, I don't know if I will be posting it... But if you guys want to read it, it will be up by tomorrow night! And... I guess that's all I have to say. Thanks for everyone who followed and favorited, and a special thanks for my first reviewer, MissShadowScar! And I hope you guys enjoy reading this chapter. Oh, and please, drop a review maybe? :)**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Les Misérables.**

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**#4 - Finals and Blankets  
****[May, 1829]**

"Dear God!" Hope exclaimed, as she saw the state of her best friend. "You look awful."

Enjolras looked up at her for a moment and only nodded, mumbling a few words that almost didn't make sense. Normally, he would roll his eyes and reply to that remark, but he felt too tired to do that.

With his finals at the university coming up, the young revolutionary was feeling completely overwhelmed with all his responsabilities. Between essays to write, books to read, things to study, and meetings of the ABC society to lead, he had come to an understanding that 24 hours a day were not enough. For the past week, in order to get everything done, he had skipped his meals and spent his nights awake. His level of stress had never been higher but he felt too tired to complain.

"You should take a break." Hope suggested, raising an eyebrow. "Honestly, when was the last time you got some sleep?"

"I don't have time to sleep." He answered, turning his attention back to his books.

"Are you at least eating something?" She asked, crossing her arms.

"Uh..." Enjolras frowned. When was the last time he ate something? A day ago? Two days ago? "I don't know. I don't have time to eat, Hope. I have work to do."

"Honestly, you are just like a little child." She hissed, before making her way to the back of the bookshop.

Enjolras sighed, turning his attention back to his books. He felt his stomach growling in pain, but decided to ignore that. He had to finish those books in order to write his essays, and he had to write his essays in order to get a good grading. And he had to get good grades in order to stay at the university. There was no such thing as taking a break. He could take a damn break when there wasn't any work left for him to do.

He felt his eyelids getting heavier and heavier as the minutes passed, but tried to stay focused on the book, with very little success. "Maybe it won't hurt if I close my eyes for five minutes", he thought to himself. "Maybe it will do some good."

And when Hope came back from the backroom, a pile of books for children on her hands, she noticed that the young revolutionary had fell asleep on the table.

"Stubborn prat." She muttered to herself, shaking her head.

Placing the books on top of the counter, Hope proceeded to make her way back to the backroom. Looking around for a while, she found a piece of blanket carefully folded next to the table.

It belonged to Eponine. From the time when Hope had found her lying on the streets during the night with only that blanket to protect her from the cold. Feeling incredibly sorry and desperate to help - after all, the red-haired girl would do anything for the gamine -, Hope had let Eponine inside the bookshop, and both girls slept in the backroom floor. Of course, she got in trouble with her uncle and aunt for it, but seeing Eponine smile was worth it.

Smiling at the memory, Hope grabbed the small blanket and made her way to the backroom. She knew how much the young man needed to rest and she doubted he could do so in such a cold weather. Especially with the windows open, allowing the cold wind to get inside the shop. And she was sure that Eponine would not mind.

Upon arriving back into the shop, she noticed that there were a few costumers looking at the shelves. Smiling politely at them, Hope carefully placed the blanket around Enjolras' shoulders and moved some of the books to the other side of the table, so he could have more space to move in case he needed to do so.

"Good night to you, sleepy-head." She commented, before turning around and making her way to the costumers.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: One-shot number five, and counting. This one is longer than the last one and it's my take on how Enjolras would react upon seeing a Drunk Hope. (Also know as "the author tries to write comedy and fails"). And well, that is all. Thanks for everyone who is reading this, and leave a review maybe? Pretty please with sugar on top? :)**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Les Misérables.**

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**#5 – First-Time Drinkers  
[October, 1830]**

"ENJOLRAS!" Hope yelled cheerfully, suddenly wrapping her arms around her best friend's waist. "YOU WILL NEVER EVER GUESS WHAT I JUST DID."

Enjolras sighed before rolling his eyes. "What did you just do?"

"You have to guess, silly boy!" She exclaimed, planting a kiss on his cheek, before letting go of him. "You are silly. Monsieur Silly Enjolras, from Silly-Paris, Silly-France! You are really silly."

He frowned. "Are you drunk, Hope?"

"No, of course I'm not a drunk. I haven't drink anything all night... Oh, well, I did drink this tasty liquor that Grantaire offered me. He's really nice, Grantaire. I told him I needed water and he said he had something better than water. I was suspicious at first, but then my whole mind just went WHAT THE HELL!" She screamed that part, clasping her hands together. "And slap me in the face and call me reckless child, he was right! It tasted so good, Enjolras. You have to try it."

"GRANTAIRE!" Enjolras yelled angrily, walking towards the man who stood in one of the corners of the Café. Hope followed him, grinning happily. "Grantaire, what have you done?"

"Many things." The other replied, taking a sip from his own cup. "And I don't regret any of them."

"What have you done with Hope?" Asked the young revolutionary, crossing his arms.

"With Hope? Oh, poor girl." Grantaire commented, shaking his head. "She was thirsty and looked extremely sad, so I gave her some wine. Now look at her, she's no longer thirsty and she's happy. Killed two birds with one stone."

Enjolras rubbed his eyes, now turning to Hope. "How many cups did you have?"

"Aw, you see, I was about to drink my fourth cup when Grantaire told me to stop. I got mad at him at first, but he told me I was going to feel very bad if I kept on drinking. He was looking after me. Isn't he great?" She asked, now wrapping her arms around the drunk man, in a somewhat failed attempt of giving him a hug. "You don't give him enough credit, Silly Enjolras. He is really great. Grantaire, you are so great. Honestly, you should get a statue built in your honor."

Grantaire smirked, looking at Enjolras. "See? She's fine."

"I'm so happy. I feel like running. Running around Paris. Oh, can we go running, Enjolras? Come on, let's run around. Oh, no, I have a better idea. Let's go the bookshop and use the books to build Grantaire's statue."

"She is not fine, Grantaire." He hissed, shaking his head. "Her uncle doesn't like to have her out at this time of the evening and I promised him I would take care of her. What is he going to think of me if I get her home in this state?"

"Nothing bad, I assure you!" The other replied. "You are Apollo. It's impossible for any of us, simple mortals, to think about you as anything less than perfect."

"That was beautiful." Hope remarked, resting her head on Grantaire's shoulder. "You two should get married."

"Quiet, Hope." Enjolras hissed, crossing his arms. "I left the room for half an hour, Grantaire. Half an hour. And yet, somehow, you managed to get her drunk."

"She is not drunk. Only happy."

"She is a first-time drinker. Of course she is drunk."

"Silly, I'm fine!" Hope stated, rolling her eyes. "I like this place. I wanna stay here forever. Grant, tell Silly to let me stay here forever."

"Silly?" Grantaire asked, raising his eyebrows in amusement.

"You are not staying here any longer, Hope." Enjolras told her. "Grab your coat. I'm taking you home right now."

"But I don't wanna go-"

"I SAID NOW!" He snapped, before walking across the room to talk with Comberferre.

Hope had acquired a sad expression on her face. "Is he mad at me?"

"He is mad at both of us, Hope."

"Oh." She said, quietly nodding her head. "I don't like when Silly is mad at me. It makes me sad. He is the only friend I have."

"You'll get used to it." Grantaire sighed. "You should probably do as you were told and grab your coat, though. We don't want Apollo getting even angrier at you now, do we?"

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Hope stumbled on her own feet for what she assumed to be the third time since she had started walking. Enjolras glared at her, but said nothing. He was quiet. Extremely quiet. And it was bothering her.

"You know what would be fun?" She asked, looking at her best friend with expectation. He didn't replied. "Walking on the moon. How fun would it be? It's a whole different place from earth! Oh, you know what we should do? We should visit the moon! Do you think that's possible, visiting the moon?"

"No, Hope. Visiting the moon is not possible." Enjolras said, not demonstrating any interest in the subject.

"Oh, that's a shame. Maybe someday, though?" She asked, with a laugh.

They had arrived in Hope's home. Enjolras stared at the door for a few seconds, before turning to the red-haired girl. "Listen to me now, Hope. Your uncle will probably find it to be strange the way you are behaving at the moment, so you need to stay quiet and let me do the talking, all right?" She nodded. "Good."

The young man took a deep breath and knocked on the door. Upon noticing that the girl was once again loosing her balance and almost about to fall, he put his arm around her shoulders, bringing her closer to him. Hope smiled with gratitude.

Her uncle, however, was not too happy or grateful to open the door and find the two friends like that. Analyzing the pair for a second, he raised his eyebrows. "You two are home early." He remarked, looking at them with suspicion.

"Yes, sir. I'm afraid that Hope was not feeling quite well." Enjolras lied, giving the man his best smile. "She said she was feeling dizzy so I decided it would be better to bring her home a bit early, just for safety."

"You did good, boy." Her uncle said, nodding his head. "Come inside, Hope. Your aunt will make you some tea, it will make you feel better."

"NO!" She exclaimed in a loud tone of voice. Enjolras looked down, slightly annoyed. "I mean... No, uncle. Thank you very much. I just... feel like... sleeping... maybe?"

"Say goodbye to your friend and go to your room, then. If you are still now feeling well by morning, then we'll take you to a doctor. I'll be right there in the kitchen if you need me, dear." Her uncle announced, now looking at Enjolras. " You can go now, boy. And thank you for bringing my niece home."

"Not a problem, Monsieur." Enjolras nodded politely, as he watched the man leave the room. "Your uncle is nice." He commented, taking his arm off Hope's shoulders. "Remember: Go straight to sleep."

"I will." The red-haired agreed, tilting her head to the side. "Are you mad at me?"

"Yes, I am." He sighed. "What you did today was irresponsible, Hope. I trusted you had a better judgment."

"I'm sorry. I will never do that again." She apologized. "Are you still my friend?"

"Yes. Of course I'm still your friend." He reassured her. "Who else is going to take care of you?"

"Grantaire took a good care of me. He didn't let me drink more than three cups and-"

"What Grantaire did was even more irresponsible than what you did and I do not trust you two enough to leave you alone in the same room."

"That's silly. You are silly." Hope complained, crossing her arms. "You are really silly. Have I ever told you that?"

"Yes, you have." The young revolutionary rolled his eyes. "But I'm just trying to take good care of my dearest little sister."

"I know." She nodded. "I'm sorry."

"It's all right." Enjolras replied, planting a kiss on the top of her head. "I must go now. Goodnight, Hope."

"Goodnight, Silly." She answered, quickly going inside her home and closing the door behind her. The red-haired girl turned to walk towards her bedroom, but ended up tripping on her own feet and falling on the ground. "Blimey, everything is spinning." She commented, before getting up to her feet again. "Which way to the bedroom, again?"


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: One-shot number six! And a very random one. And slightly short. So, something I forgot to mention. I was originally thinking about writing Hope's story – but instead of random one-shots about her friendship with Enjolras, it would actually revolve around her and her life. So, what do you think? Should I go for it? Please, let me know. Also, I would love if you dropped a review! I don't know how well do you guys like Hope, so some feedback would be really appreciated! And... this is all for today. Have fun reading this. :)**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Les Misérables.**

* * *

**#6 – How A Friendship Works.  
[July, 1828]**

"I had a dream about you last night." Hope suddenly commented, as she flipped some of the pages of a random book.

Enjolras raised an eyebrow, looking at her with a clear lack of interest. "I pray to God that it doesn't involves me as the charming prince who saves the princess."

"You? A charming prince?" Hope scoffed, shaking her head. "If anything, you are the random peasant that is not amused with the situation of the kingdom."

"It's not my fault if the King is a tyrant." The young man replied, resting his hands at the table, his face becoming stiff. "The people are starving. They have to work long hours to receive a few souls that can barely pay for the food. Women have to sell themselves and children have to steal-"

"I'm going to stop you right there." The red-haired girl interrupted, rolling her eyes. "Why, if I may ask, does every attempt of conversation with you always ends up on the subject of France or Revolution?"

"Because, Hope, the people are suffering. While we chat and have tea in the warmth of our houses, people on the streets have nothing to eat. How do you expect me to ignore that?"

"I don't expect you to ignore that. But I wish to speak to you about something different, and I think maybe you should open your mind a little, and listen. Isn't this how a friendship works?"

"A friendship is about sharing whatever it's on your mind and discussing with your friend about it. It's also about having someone you can trust by your side when things are too heavy to handle. I am not so sure about how silly dreams fit inside a friendship."

"It fits on the sharing part." She pointed out, with a smile. "Besides, you talk to me about your problems and worries, so shouldn't I be allowed to talk to you about my problems and worries?"

Enjolras looked at her for a moment and sighed. He knew that discussing with Hope would lead him nowhere. She was probably the most stubborn person he has ever met. "All right then, Mademoiselle Green." He said. "What are _your _problems and worries?"

Hope smiled cheerfully. "I had a dream about you last night and it was quite curious." She started. "You were running away from something, I don't know what. But you were dragging me along. You seemed really scared, too. And then we reached a dead-end alley. You started to mutter some revolutionary non-senses and suddenly a group of man surrounded us... and they... you know... killed you."

The young revolutionary blinked his eyes in shock before crossing his arms. He opened his mouth to reply to that, but didn't find anything he could say. _How is one suppose to react, _he asked himself, _when a friend tells him that they have dreamed about their death?_

Hope, who was staring at him slightly unsure, cleared her throat. "Just for the record. I'm not crazy."

"Uh..." He replied, slowly nodding his head. "Is there any reason for you... to tell me this?"

"I don't know." She shrugged. "Perhaps. Uncle always said that I had a little bit of a fortune-teller brain in me, but I have always judged that to be rubbish. I mean,_ how can a person have a little bit of a fortune-teller brain?_ They either do or they either don't. In any case, what am I trying to say here is..." She trailed off for a moment, biting her lower lip. "Please be careful and don't get yourself killed?"

"I'll... I'll try." He said, giving her a reassuring smile.

She was just worried about him. That's all.

"Good."

Hope turned her attention back to her book. Enjolras watched her with curiosity for a few seconds, before rubbing his eyes. _Why on earth had he decided to become friends with such a strange lady like Hope? _He did not know the answer to that question. However, as he felt himself enjoying her company far more than he thought he would, taking in consideration her unusual habits and different way of thinking, Enjolras was glad about making that decision. _I guess that's how friendships truly work_, he thought to himself.


	7. Chapter 7

**#7 - Enjolras reflects about Hope.  
[March, 1830]**

Enjolras watched his best friend from the corner of the Café with curiosity and worry. She was staring blankly at the book positioned in front of her, her face looking as pale as ever and enormous bags under her eyes, letting out a yawn from time to time. It was obvious that Hope had not been sleeping properly for the past few days, and Enjolras had not been the only one to notice that.

Seeing as Hope truly had a passion for books and stories, Comberferre had suggested that maybe, her sleepless nights were caused by a few good books which the girl couldn't find the heart close.

Joly kindly said that there was nothing to worry about, and that it was a normal occurrence for people to have trouble with sleeping sometimes. However, he was quick to add that in case her insomnia got worse, she should probably look for a doctor.

Jehan, on the other hand, was almost sure that Hope had found for herself a secret lover, with whom she would spend the nights at her garden, talking and courting without being watched by her guardians. That particular statement did not pleased either Enjolras or Courfeyrac, who proceeded to cross his arms and angrily rant about how old-fashioned and silly the idea of having a secret lover was. (Enjolras decided that he would later ask his friend about his exaggerated reaction towards the idea of Hope having a lover.)

Grantaire, though, saw Hope's problems as they truly were: _Problems_. Instead of sitting back and speculating, like the others were doing, he actually decided to ask her about it. Upon learning what the true cause of her lack of sleep was, the drunk made a joke, played with one of the strands of her red hair, and promised he would not say a word to anyone.

Enjolras only found out by luck, as a lack of a better term to put it.

He was making his way over to Bossuet and Feuilly when he accidentally overheard the two talking. Grantaire, after taking a seat next to her, had simply asked: "_Nightmares_?", to which Hope quietly replied with a "_yes_".

But there was so much more into it than just a simple nightmare. Hope, who was normally a clever and sarcastic girl, had been reduced to a pile of nerves. She looked around all the time, almost as if she fears that something might happen to her. Her face became blank whenever the words '_parents_', '_mother_', or '_father_' were mentioned. Hope was not all right.

He confronted her about it and she confessed to him everything.

Her nightmares basically consisted of her parents being brutally murdered in front of her, and according to her explanation, they seemed to be getting worse lately. She told him about how she felt scared, unsafe. She said that it was also slightly frustrating: she barely remembered anything about her parents, and yet she was dreaming about their deaths. She asked him to not worry about her. She said she was only being silly and that her nightmares would probably be gone in a few days.

However, Enjolras felt his concern towards the younger girl growing stronger and stronger with every word she said. He had no idea about what was going on inside his friend's head, but he knew Hope very well.

She had a tough life, he was aware of that. And he also aware that everyone had a limit. There was only so many things a person could handle before becoming far too lost and confused, drowning themselves in self loathing and pain. He was afraid that Hope was reaching her limit.

She had many things to worry about at the moment. Her uncle and aunt trying to find her a husband, her unrequited love for Éponine, her never ending doubts about what truly happened to her parents, her constant fear of being found by the man who once tried to rape her, the lack of sleep she was getting,... and now, nightmares.

She wasn't all right and she wasn't going to be all right anytime soon. He knew that if things got too heavy for her to deal with, Hope wouldn't look for help. She would close herself to the world, once again hiding behind her untouchable barricade made of books and bad humor.

And that was exactly what scared him.

Would he be able to help, if things got out of hand? In case the nightmares got worse and she felt the need of isolating herself, would he even be allowed to be near her?

The answer was: No, he wouldn't. And he hated that. He hated that she was hurting but there was nothing he could do about it. He was her best friend, her brother-figure. If he couldn't be there for her whenever she needed him, _then what good was he_?

"Are you all right?" Enjolras finally asked, slightly uneasy after hearing her story.

"Not in the moment." Hope shrugged, staring at her hands. "I feel like I need some time to myself... to think about this nightmare and then forget about it. Yet at the same time, I can't help but feel terrified and... I don't wanna be alone."

"You're not alone, Hope. I'm here for you." He said, giving her a comforting smile. "You are my little sister. I'll always be here."

She looked at him and smiled – a sad smile, but it was the best she could manage. "Thank you."

But what she truly meant was, _"I need you. Please. Don't leave me alone."_

And Enjolras understood that, even if she had not said it out loud.

**A/N: Number Seven, oh my god. So, the ending is rather bad, but I'm actually really proud of this chapter. It turned out to be way better than I had expected it to be. And yeah, I'm really sorry that it took me so long to update. I was working on another fanfiction - a doctor who/les misérables crossover that my friend begged me to write, which hopefully will be up soon. But I haven't forgot this and it would really make me very very happy if you left a review. And this is it. Thanks for reading. I hope you enjoyed the chapter :)**


	8. Chapter 8

**#8 – The Little Sister He Never Actually Wanted  
[March, 1832.]**

* * *

"That's beautiful."

Enjolras was staring at the sky in amazement as the sun began to set. His blue eyes shining with glee and satisfaction as he let out a small laugh.

Hope smiled and stretched her back. She took a deep breath before laying down on the grass, not bothering about getting dirt all over her blue dress. "It's just the sunset." She commented, looking up at the sky as well. "It happens everyday, you know."

Enjolras glared at his best friend for a moment. "I never paid attention to the sunset before, though." He responded. "I have always been too busy with university and the revolution. And today would have been no different if you hadn't insisted on dragging me all over Paris."

"Well, it is your birthday." The red-haired girl pointed out. "Your other friends may respect your wishes and leave you alone, but I couldn't just sit back and watch you waste the days of your youth being a responsible little prat."

"Being responsible it's not a bad thing, Hope." Enjolras said, lying down on the grass as well and turning his head to look at her. "You should try it sometimes. It would do you some good."

"Oh, shut up. I am the most responsible girl you have ever met, don't even try to deny it." Hope stated, causing him to laugh.

"Perhaps. However, I do not understand why you want me to have fun so badly." The young revolutionary commented, raising an eyebrow. "It's only my birthday. Just like there is a sunset every day, there is a birthday every year."

"It's not because of your birthday, stupid." She sighed. "It's because I worry about you."

He frowned. "You worry about me?"

"Yes." She agreed, staying silent for a second or two before speaking again. "You have too much on your shoulders, Enjolras. You spend so much time worrying about the revolution and trying to find a way to help the people of France. That's admirable, of course, but... you are forgetting to live."

"Forgetting to live?" Enjolras scoffed. "Hope, what is the life of one when compared to the life of a country? I may overwork myself sometimes, but I do not regret it. I want to help people, Hope. I want to change the situation we currently are. My live does not count."

"It does for me, though." Hope quickly answered, her mood becoming slightly dark. "You may not give a single damn about your life, but I do. The revolution is close, Enjolras, and I'm not stupid. I know that you will fight for you country and I know that there's an enormous chance that you won't come out of it alive... And there's also a chance that your sacrifice will be completely worthless but-"

"Hope-" He tried to interrupt.

"I'm talking." She warned, shooting him a glare before sitting up. "I'm not going to try to stop you, because that would be a waste of my time. But you are still my best friend and I love you. If I can't protect you from death, then the least I could do is make sure that you lived a good life and had some fun."

"That's very thoughtful of you, Hope." He sighed, deciding that he was not going to argue with her. Not that day, at least. "But the barricades shall not perish, and even if they do... Let us be the spark that ignites the fire of the revolutionary hearts that will change the world. It will not be a worthless sacrifice."

"Are you trying to convince me or yourself?" She inquired, raising her eyebrows and getting up on her feet. "Come on, let's go back to my house. My aunt baked you a cake, birthday boy."

"A cake?" He asked, blinking his eyes in surprise. "Hope, she shouldn't have."

"Well, you know my aunt." She shrugged, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. "She loves to bake and she adores you."

There was a moment of silence between the two friends.

"You know..." Enjolras started, getting up as well. "I don't want you to worry about my well-being. I'm perfectly happy with the way things are now. The revolution is showing plenty of signs of success, there are plenty of men ready to fight for France, my sister is about to get married and-"

"Sister?" She asked, with a smirk. "I am your sister now, then?"

"Of course you are... You are basically the little sister I never wanted, Hope Green." Enjolras said, looking at her with amusement.

"Oh, revolution and hope. What a pair we make!" The red-haired girl exclaimed cheerfully, shaking her head. "Our parents must be proud."

* * *

**A/N: One-shot number eight and my favorite so far, if I'm going to be completely honest. I took a few liberties while writing this and I hope that no one actually minds. (Also, is anyone curious about who is Hope going to marry?!). And if you read this, I'm sorry that I haven't updated in a while – busy life, yadda yadda, nothing worth mentioning. And, the next one-shot will probably be a Modern AU, not so sure yet. So, this is it. I hope you enjoyed this one-shot and please, leave a review? :)**


	9. Chapter 9

**#9 – Fake Engagements and Broken Hearts  
[April, 1832]**

"Hello, Monsieur Grantaire." Hope casually greeted, as she took a seat next to the drunk man. "How is it going today?"

"Perfectly good, Mademoiselle Hope." The young man replied as he took another sip from his glass of absinthe. "May I inquire about your well-being as well?"

"Oh, I would prefer if you did not." She sighed. "Don't you think it's a bit early to be drinking already, Monsieur?"

"It's always ten o' clock somewhere, Mademoiselle." Grantaire laughed and shook his head. "Say, I'm quite curious. It's not often that you come talk to me. Actually, if I am correct, you only talk to me when you are trying to make our dearest Apollo angry. Or, in some rare cases, when you are upset and needs a drink. Which one it is today?"

"Neither, though I would gladly accept a drink." She replied, with a shrug. "But Enjolras was getting into a heated discussion about equality with Combeferre. Needless to say, it was a quite boring conversation and I figured that talking to someone would be way more entertaining for me."

"You chose my companionship instead of listening to their philosophical thoughts?" The drunk asked, blinking his eyes in surprise.

"Well, why wouldn't I?" She inquired, pushing a strand of hair away from her face. "You make me laugh with your sarcasm and your rants about Greek mythology are quite amusing. You are a good friend, Grantaire. Plus, you don't try to flirt with me, which I very much appreciate."

"Mademoiselle Hope, you are one of a kind." Grantaire mused. "You said you would gladly accept a drink, so would you perhaps like to share a bottle of wine with me?"

"I don't think my fiancee should be drinking, Grantaire." Jehan Prouvaire commented, now turning to look at Hope and offering her a yellow rose. "Afternoon, Mademoiselle Hope. How are you doing today?"

"Would you mind if I did not answered that question?" Hope inquired, giving him a smile as she accepted the rose. "Yellow rose? It means friendship, right?"

"You are getting good at it." Jehan nodded his head, pushing a chair to sit between his two friends. "Yellow roses have various meanings, though. Friendship was the one I intended, however, depending on the situation, it could also mean 'jealousy, infidelity, an apology'. Or intense emotions in general."

"You educate us, Jehan." Grantaire commented, taking one more sip of his glass of absinthe. "How is the fake engagement going, by the way?"

"My uncle and aunt are still clueless about it." Hope replied, before placing her hand on Jehan's shoulders. "I will never be able to thank you enough for what you are doing for me, Monsieur Prouvaire."

"Always glad to help a friend in need, Mademoiselle." He grinned. "The yellow rose would look lovely with your red hair. May I?"

"Of course."

"I never fully understood your logic." Grantaire started to speak once again, watching with amusement as Jehan carefully begun to braid Hope's hair. "You don't wish to get married... so you are solving your problem by getting married?"

"Not quite like that." Hope stated, trying to keep still so she wouldn't get in the way of Jehan's work. "My uncle and aunt seem to believe that a woman needs to get married in order to be fully happy. And without consulting me, they had arranged a marriage between me and the son of a prestigious doctor or something of the kind. I met the lad once and it turns out he is quite..."

"Grotesque?" Jehan offered, raising an eyebrow.

"I was originally going to say rude, but grotesque works way better." She agreed. "We went out for a walk and we ended up running into Éponine. She's my friend, so naturally, I greeted her. As soon as she was gone, though, he tried to forbid me from talking to random gamines on the street, especially Éponine. And when I told him that I wouldn't do that, he actually hit me on the face."

"So that's where that bruise you had on your cheek a few weeks ago came from." Grantaire concluded, with a frown. "Mademoiselle, please be kind and tell me that you hit the bastard back?"

"Did you honestly thought that I would let some random man just hit me like that?" Hope chuckled. "I punched him right in the nose, just as Enjolras taught me, and then I left. I went right back to my uncle and aunt's house and begged them to not let me marry that idiot. They said that I had no choice on the matter, unless I found myself a new suitor willing to marry a foreign girl... So I panicked, ran out of the house and... _ouch_."

"Did I hurt you?" Jehan asked, looking at her with worry.

"No, it's fine. You just pulled that strand too hard."

"Oh, pardon me." He apologized, before focusing on his work again.

"What did you do, then?" Grantaire asked, blinking his eyes in curiosity.

"I didn't knew what to do. At first I was planning on running away from home and renting a small apartment near St. Michelle, so I could live happily ever after on my own." She joked. "But then I talked to Enjolras and he said he would come up with a better plan to get me out of that mess."

"And that's where I come in." Jehan added cheerfully. "Enjolras happened to share her story with Courfeyrac and me. Courfeyrac was the one to come up with the idea, honestly. The only thing that could possibly prevent Hope from marrying that arsehole would be finding her another suitor. But to attend Hope's best wishes, we came to the conclusion that a fake marriage would be the answer."

"So you offered yourself?" Grantaire questioned, raising an eyebrow. "Fake marriage or not, you two are still going to be married in a few weeks. Have that thought occurred to your brilliant minds?"

"Quite frankly, hardly nothing will change. Both of us will still have our freedom to do whatever pleases us. We'll just have to keep up with the appearances for a while. It will be like friends living together."

"And again, I could never thank you enough for doing this for me." Hope smiled.

"I already told you, you don't have to thank me. You're my friend and I'm happy to help." Jehan responded, as he finally finished braiding her hair. He carefully picked up the yellow rose from the table and placed it behind one of hers ears, a grin spreading across his face. "Ah, doesn't she look lovely?"

"She does." A familiar voice agreed.

The red-haired girl looked up, and when she saw the gamine girl standing there, everything around her seemed to disappear. She smiled widely, her heart pounding on her chest. "Afternoon, Éponine. How are you doing today?"

"Very good, Mademoiselle Hope." The other girl nodded her head. "Your hair looks lovely with the yellow rose. I wish my hair was as lovely as yours."

"Your hair is just as lovely as mine is. It's just a bit messy." Hope replied, blushing. "I don't know why you keep comparing yourself to me. You are way more beautiful than I am."

Grantaire and Jehan exchanged a look.

"You are too kind, mademoiselle." Éponine laughed, shaking her head. "You don't have to lie about it, though."

"I'm not, I swear. You have the prettiest eyes I have ever seen!" She blurted out, nervously biting her bottom lip.

"Anyway," Éponine shrugged. "Is Monsieur Marius here? I have been looking for him for quite some time now."

Hope's smile seemed to fade away just as quickly as it had appeared. There was a few seconds of silence in the table, in which Hope looked up at them. "I think I'm going home." She announced. "It's getting quite late and I promised my uncle I would be home in time for supper."

"Do you want me to go with you, Mademoiselle Hope?" Éponine offered. "Maybe we can find Monsieur Marius on the way and he could come with us too! The streets are very dangerous at this time, you see, and if anything bad happens, I can protect you both. I'm the daughter of a wolf, yes I am. People on the streets tend to fear me."

As much as she would love to take a walk with Éponine, Hope knew for a fact that Marius was coming towards the Café Musain at this time, just like he usually did everyday. She also knew for a fact that he would not know how to deny Éponine's invitation. There were many kinds of heartbreak that Hope could take, but seeing Éponine throwing herself at the arms of Marius was not one of them.

"No, thank you, Éponine... Enjolras can walk me." Hope quietly replied, before turning her attention to the boys. "Maybe I shall accept that drink offer tomorrow, Monsieur Grantaire. And Monsieur Jehan, thank you very much for the rose and for the braid."

Without waiting for any reply, Hope quickly got up from her seat and walked towards her best friend.

* * *

"I'm sorry that I interrupted your conversation with Monsieur Combeferre." The red-haired girl apologized.

"Don't worry about it, Hope." Enjolras reassured her. "It was nothing important."

They had been walking in silence for quite some time now. Enjolras had noticed the sudden change in her mood, but not wanting to force the subject upon her, he had simply done his best by offering his best friend a hand to hold. A gesture that he knew had been much appreciated – he could tell by the way she kept squeezing his hand every now and then.

The amount of pain Hope was feeling, however, was something he could never quite imagine. She had been in love with Éponine for more than three years now, and even though she had always known that nothing would ever happen between the two of them, a part of her kept on waiting and wishing that maybe, someday the gamine girl would return her feelings.

But Éponine was in love with Marius, not with her.

Love was not supposed to hurt this much. But it did.

"Hope, are you all right?" Enjolras suddenly asked, as he stopped walking. "You are crying."

"I... I am?" She asked, feeling slightly confused.

The young man hesitated for a moment, before reaching out to her with his free hand, and wiping away the tear that was rolling down her cheek. "Is everything okay?" He asked again. "Do you want to tell me what's wrong?"

"It just... hurts." Hope replied, letting go of his hand and looking down at her own feet. "I knew from the start that nothing could ever happen. I knew that it was not going to end the way I wanted to end, but... I love her, Enjolras. I love her."

"I know you do." He mumbled, slightly uncomfortable with the situation. "I'm sorry, Hope, but maybe... it's for the best."

"How can it be for the best, though?" She asked, trying to repress a sob. "It shouldn't end this way. It shouldn't hurt this much. Everything is just... wrong."

"Come on, Hope. Don't be sad."

"She will never love me, will she?"

"But that's just the thing." Enjolras sighed, before slowly pulling Hope into a hug. She hesitated for a moment, before hugging him back, wrapping her arms around his waist. "She is not in love with you, but she does loves you. But she loves you in the same way I love you. As a sister. You are probably the only friend besides Marius she has, and maybe, the reason why she fell in love with him it's because she met him first." Hope buried her face in her best friend's chest, mumbling incoherent things under her breath. Enjolras chuckled, gently stroking her hair. "I know you hate the situation you are now and you have all the reasons to do so. But you shouldn't let your pain blind you from what's around you. Éponine may not return your feelings, but you have a bright future ahead of you."

"Yes, but what about love?" Hope asked.

"Love is not the most important thing. You can live without it."

"A life without love?" She inquired, with a frown. "That's a life that's worth no living."

"That's not what I mean." Enjolras rolled his eyes. "There are plenty of people who loves you, Hope. For example, your uncle and aunt. Me. Or maybe Jehan. It may not be the common love shared between husband and wife, but he sees you as a good friend of his. The other boys as well. We all see you as a part of the group, even though you have zero interest in politics and even though sometimes I have to drag you to some of the meetings. Let's not forget Courfeyrac's small crush on you..."

"Charming and yet scary." She quietly commented.

"Indeed." The blond agreed, deciding he would not like to dwell on the subject of Courfeyrac's interest on Hope. "And then you have that Cosette girl you met on the gardens. I think you are her only friend, if I'm being honest. She seems lonely. Maybe you should invite her to the next meeting. We need as much help as we can get." He mused, before clearing his throat. "And you love all those people just as much as they love you. You wouldn't be living without love, Hope. You would be living without being _in_ love. Without a broken heart and very happy for a change."

"Sounds wonderful." Hope sighed. "How do you do it, Enjolras?"

"Do what?"

"How do you not fall in love with anyone?"

"I don't know. I never did." He shrugged. "Maybe it's because, unlike the others, I do not idealize the idea of love and I do not have the need for it."

"You are in love with your country, though." She pointed out, raising an eyebrow. "You are willing to die for the people and you wouldn't even think twice about it. That's the most pure form of love there is."

"No. You are just confusing love with patriotism."

Hope let out a small laugh, causing Enjolras to smile as well. The red-haired girl stood on her tip-toes and pressed a kiss on his cheek. "You are the best brotherly figure that I could have ever asked for."

"Quite right." He agreed, happy to see that his best friend was back into her normal state of cheerfulness. He kissed her forehead, breaking their hug apart. "Éponine is probably gone by now. Do you wish to go back to the Musain or would you rather finish the walk home?"

"I would very much like to go home." Hope simply replied, with a shrug. "I did actually promised my aunt that I would be back today in time for supper... I think she wants to spend as much time with me as possible before the wedding."

"Fair enough." Enjolras nodded. "Have you picked you wedding dress yet?"

"I'm not discussing my fake-marriage details with you."

"Again, fair enough."

* * *

**A/N: One shot number nine, and counting! Eleven more one shots and this will be done, yay. So, I would like to thank everyone who favorited and followed, and a special thanks for BurningStorm who left me a really kind review. Thank you so much! Anyway, I am sorry that this is taking so long to update. I had some really bad writer's block over the past few months, and I'm also trying to write a doctor who/les misérables crossover so there's that. So, what do you guys think about the fake marriage situation and Hope's friendship with Jehan and Grantaire? What about Éponine? Well, drop me a review and let me know what you think! Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed this chapter :)**


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